… and Love
by apAidan
Summary: A dozen years has passed, and Hermione Granger is finally forced to come face to face with her biggest regret. The only question is, is she too late to finally say what should have been said so many years ago. H/Hr See A/N for Chapter 1 for more info
1. After All These Years

… and Love

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><p><em>AN – Firstly, the general housekeeping issues. This is a Harry Potter fanfic. It's not the mythical Book Eight, nor is it the real epilogue that was stolen by nameless individuals while the galley proofs were on the way to the publisher. I'm not JK Rowling, and while I and everyone else is indebted to her for bringing us the world that is Harry Potter's, everything recognizable in this story belongs to her. Including the two brief quotes in the chapter from her published works. Both are cited at the end of the chapter._

_Secondly, a specific housekeeping issue. This story is told in a series of chapters and interludes, which are told from two very distinct points of view. While I'm fairly certain people will be able to tell which POV belongs to whom, the chapters are Hermione's and the interludes are Harry's. The final chapter will see both of those points of view merged. The chapters and their corresponding interludes will be posted together  
><em>

_Hopefully this will be enjoyable and not confusing. This particular story has languished in one form or another on my computer for a couple of years now. Only when I actually decided when it was occurring did the ending come to mind.  
><em>

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><p>Chapter One – After All These Years<p>

_29 August, 2003 – Room 611 – The Lily Potter Dark Arts Trauma Ward - St. Mungo's, London_

_"Books! And cleverness! There are more important things-friendship and bravery and-oh Harry-be careful!"__(1)_

_For a dozen years, the cowardice of a moment when I was twelve has haunted me. The course of my life, the course of the life of the boy, no the man, who would become the central focus of my life, and maybe even the fate of wizarding Britain hinged upon a single sentence. In spite of my failure, the Light prevailed and we both survived to live our lives. To my eternal shame and discredit, my choice that day seemed to place an unseen but quite palpable barrier between Harry and myself. _

_My inability to utter two words, two very commonplace words, to my best mate brought us inexorably to the moment where I'm sitting in a darkened hospital ward, not certain whether Harry will live or die. Not certain if I'll ever be granted the grace to correct that failure, that betrayal of the love we've always had for each other._

Closing my journal, I silently sealed the leather-bound volume and slumped back into the chair I was occupying. The room was dimly lit since Harry didn't need illumination at the moment, and I was beyond caring. Watching the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest, I synchronized my breathing with his.

Whether from a vain hope that I could share the burden of maintaining life with him by doing so, or as an acknowledgement that he held both our lives in his hands, I was uncertain.

The number of hours the both of us have occupied hospital wards, waiting for the other to return to consciousness or health, would probably be staggering if either one of us would ever care to count them up. Summoning up what courage I still possessed, I began to speak.

"Harry, I'm here."

Pausing as if he was going to answer, I watched for any sign, any reaction from him to the sound of my voice.

"As soon as I get you back on your feet and healthy, I'm seriously considering hexing you to within an inch of your life." Feeling my voice about to crack, I paused and silently filled one of the earthenware tumblers sitting on his bedside table with water from the pitcher sitting there. Taking a sip, I sighed in resignation.

"I know that sounds a bit counter-productive, but it's the only thing I can think of to do, at the moment. I have to have some sort of hope that I'll have a chance to make things right between us."

At that moment, the door to the hallway creaked as it was being eased open. Since all the diagnostic spells were showing the same results they had for the past three hours, it was one hour, twelve minutes and seventeen seconds until the healer was scheduled to return, and forty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds until the mediwitch was scheduled to make her next appearance, I was reasonably certain who was standing in the doorway without needing to see the door.

"Go home, Ronald. I told you twice before that I'm going to be here until he wakes up." Trying to keep my voice even, I refrain from turning around and glaring at the door.

"We'll discuss everything else once Harry's awake."

"Herms, Mum says you should come home with me. The healers will floo the Burrow if anything changes. No sense…"

Ronald cut off and took an involuntary step backwards as I finally turned around in my chair and glared.

"What is without sense is Harry being in this position in the first place, which is totally our fault and responsibility. Are my parents out there?"

Trying to dial back my emotions, I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. In the back of my head, I could hear Harry chuckling. _'Don't kill him out of hand, Mi. You'll most likely regret it in the morning; especially after you see the mounds of parchmentwork they'll make us do to explain it.'_

My whispered "Right again, Harry," coincided with Ron's "Alex and Helen are outside. They just brought up tea and biscuits from downstairs, thinking you might need something soon. I told them that we'd be heading back…"

"In twelve years, have you ever once thought about consulting me before making these idiotic, unilateral pronouncements?"

The rational, polite voice in the back of my head, which really sounds too much like the Harry who had consoled and comforted me when I needed it over the years for my peace of mind right now, was commenting upon the waspish tone of voice I was using.

The snarky, mischievous voice up there, which strangely enough sounds like Harry the Marauder, who was forever planning another prank, was pointing out that a quartet of Norwegian Blues could, most likely, catch him before he was past the mediwitch's station in the hallway.

"Herms, what's that supposed to mean?" Standing there, glaring back at me in his dress robes, Ron was shaking his head.

"None of this is our fault. We need to regroup and finish what we started, get things back on track. Harry would want…"

A sharp 'crack' cut Ron off, as the vase of flowers on the table beside him shattered.

"Don't you dare to presume to speak for Harry. You haven't had the decency or nerve to talk to him for months; it's laughable to think you'd try to speak for him now." Turning my back on him, I snarled, "Especially since it's your fault and my fault that he's here."

"No one told 'The Wizard Who Has to be in the Limelight' to go charging up there, if he would have stayed put…"

"If he would have 'stayed put', I'd be dead." Struggling to keep my voice from growing louder, I realized that everyone in the adjoining rooms could hear me now. The fact that I no longer cared wasn't really a surprise to me, once I thought about it.

"What part of seven Death Eaters crashing the party can't you comprehend? You apparated out and left me standing there with three people to try to protect. If Harry hadn't put himself in the line of fire, I'd be the one laying there, or dead."

"There were some on the other side, I needed to get to my family and help them." I stared at Ron as he turned a shade of red so deep that I was beginning to consider calling a Healer for him to prevent him from stroking out in front of me.

"Your brothers and Ginny had turned the two that apparated in on that side into paste by the time you got there. The five that were sniping at me weren't quite as obliging. If Harry hadn't shown up…"

"But he did. Running in to be the center of attention. Well, this time it backfired on him. Finally, his seeking the limelight…"

Whatever Ronald was going to opine was cut off when I wandlessly pushed him against the wall and pinned him there for several seconds as a warning.

"You egregiously jealous prat. If you would have stayed in place, the three of us could have taken them easily." Releasing my hold with a frisson of satisfaction as I saw the surprise and fear in his eyes, I stood and stepped between him and Harry's bed.

"I am sick to death of you blaming me for everything that happens to Harry. He's an auror, the bloody 'Wizard who Won' for Merlin's sake." Raising his voice, Ron took two steps forward from the door and put his hand on my shoulder. Shaking away from him, I turned around and tried to control my disbelief.

"You need to come home with me before you lose it and say something you'll regret."

"Ronald, I've already said the things I regret; it's the thing I didn't say I regret even more."

Staring at him, I felt the anger begin to drain away, replaced by that dull feeling of fear and loss that had been threatening to overwhelm me since I had cradled Harry's head into my lap as he whispered two words before losing consciousness earlier.

Looking at Ron, poised between fight and flight, I shook my head and closed my eyes.

"Just go home. But send my mum in on your way out. I'll make certain everyone knows his status." Reaching up, I clenched my fingers around the transfigured DA galleon that hung from around my neck.

"This isn't right. You need to leave. Kingsley is downstairs; we can get him to help. We don't have to leave tonight, if you don't want to. Tomorrow we can get a portkey just before noon."

"Ronald, that isn't going to happen now," Looking down, I waited to see if he was going to interrupt before continuing.

"At this point, I can't see anything happening in the foreseeable future. I'm staying here until Harry wakes up; regardless of how long that takes. Then, Harry and I need to talk."

Seeing the look in his eyes, knowing that he was about to lose his temper, I held up my hand.

"Just deal with it. This isn't the time to argue with me."

"It never is. I'm going to go speak to the Healer in charge of his case. If you're not going to come home, at least I can keep you from burying yourself alive in this room, waiting on the off-chance that Harry ever decides to grace us with his presence and wake up."

"He's going to wake up, he's coming back." Trying to keep the fears that were gibbering in the back of my mind at bay, I locked them behind my determination, no my need for Harry to return to us, to me.

"You might as well go home, there's not a healer on staff that would listen to you on this. Chastity, Healer Dursley, has already vetted me. There are a half dozen of us on the 'family' list besides Dudley and Petunia, and we all have access to the room, regardless of the hour.

"Since Dudley's at Gatwick, waiting to pick up Petunia and bring her here, I'm going to be here so that he has a friendly face when he wakes up." Pinching the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt to ward off the headache I could feel looming on the horizon, I wearily lowered myself back into the chair.

"Harry's family will be here for him when he's ready for us so you might as well run along home. Since I'm certain you won't bother to come back, I'll send you an update as soon as we know something."

"Bloody Hell, Hermione. You need to leave right now and come downstairs. We should have been finished with everything and on our way to Barbados if that bloody insane, delusional refugee from a quill factory hadn't appeared out of thin air."

As he was turning redder by the second, I momentarily entertained the notion that Ronald was going to spontaneously combust. While quite impossible for muggles, it does happen occasionally with wizards, not that I'd ever admit that to Luna. Just as I was about to remark upon his language, yet again, he managed to shock me. Something I had thought we'd gone beyond.

"I'm still not certain why Kingsley called a halt."

Staring at him in disbelief, I tried to find the words to express what I was feeling.

"Ronald, every member of the Order who was there, and it was the vast majority of them, distinctly heard Fawkes say 'No' and forbid Kingsley from going any further. Only twice before in recorded history has a phoenix used the Song of Negation before today.

"Considering what happened the last time someone disregarded that warning, I think you'll see Seamus rooting for England in the World Cup before Kingsley considers 'picking up where we left off'." Shaking my head at the look on his face, I tried to mask my shock and dismay.

"You can't be serious, you didn't hear him?"

"What the bloody hell are you going on about? All I know is that blasted menace of a jumped up peacock shows up, screeching its lungs out, and then everyone's looking at me as if I'd done something. Give me five minutes with Kingsley, and I can have him talked around. And if he won't, then it won't be too difficult to find someone who will."

Stunned, I turned my head and looked at Harry for a second. When I could see that our arguing hadn't impacted Harry's physical state, one way or the other, I sent the tiniest tendril of magic into the Phoenix Medallion I was wearing.

Feeling the magic awaken the slumbering functions of the symbol of the pledge that so many of our friends and colleagues had sworn, I willed the roster function of the medallion to show me the closest fifteen members of the Order. Ghostly images appeared across my sight, not solid enough to interfere with what I was doing, but enough to give me a glimpse of who was around and what they were involved in.

A glimpse of Harry was first, followed by Parvati, Padma, Hannah, Neville, George, Arthur, Molly, Lavender, and Cara. With the exception of Harry, all of them were clustered out in the hallway in the small waiting area.

Down one floor were Chastity, Minerva, Filius, and Horace sitting around a table, watching mugs of tea grow cold as they tried to find something, anything, to say. In the lift, coming towards me was Kingsley.

"Ronald, show me your Order medallion." My voice, sounding flat and mechanical to my ears, was barely above a whisper.

"Your medallion. Now."

Staring at me, Ron shook his head.

"It's at the Burrow; I left the worthless bauble in a junk drawer where it belongs. The Order's time has passed, Herms. There's no reason to allow our lives to be orchestrated by a jumped up bird."

Staring in disbelief, I began to tick off in my head the clues that I should have seen over the past nine months.

"You and Harry didn't row over his breaking up with Ginny for the final time, did you?"

"Of course we did. The callous prat led her on, and then shamelessly broke her heart. He just played with her for years, and walked away and left her a mess for someone else to pick up."

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for ten seconds. Slowly releasing it, I went through the fourteen standard variations on the _protego_ incantation from the Mastery exam as I tried to center my thoughts.

"Be serious, Ronald. In case you hadn't noticed your sister's engaged. I suspect that she's recovered from her last row with Harry very nicely, especially since she and Dennis made the cover of _Witch Weekly_ four days later. You might as well tell the truth, it's going to come out as soon as Harry wakes up." Glaring at him, I watched his eyes begin to shift back and forth as he kept glancing at Harry's unconscious form.

"The meddling fool has finally run out of luck." Staring daggers at him, Ron flexed his fingers and then balled his hands into fists before continuing.

"The time has come for all of us to move past Harry. Gin's moved on, and it's time for you and everyone else we know to do the same. He's another bloody Mad-Eye, a relic from the past who can't grasp the notion that life passed him by."

Glaring at me, Ron drew himself up and took a step forward, holding his hand out to me.

"We've passed him by."

Staring at him in disbelief, I tried to come up with something, anything, which would explain Ronald's mindset. Choosing my words carefully, I ran through three or four responses before I found something that the non-snarky Harry in my head would agree with.

"Ronald, most of your family is here at St. Mungo's waiting on word of how Harry's doing. Everyone we know is either here or sitting at their respective homes waiting to hear about Harry." Watching his face turn red, I shook my head in disbelief.

"Even Draco was here, offering support and help in tracking down the ones behind this.

"For Merlin's sake, your own sister is almost in shock, the only reason she's not out there in the waiting area is because the healers gave her a potion to settle her down and assigned her a room so she could calm herself.

"The only person on the bloody planet who actually knows him, who's not currently housed in Azkaban, and who isn't concerned about him is you." Closing my eyes in resignation, I sigh.

"His onetime best mate doesn't give a tinker's damn about him, and you're all alone in that."

My eyes popped open as a brilliant flash of crimson light filled the room and a weight settled itself upon my left shoulder. The look of disdain on Ronald's face told the tale, as did the comforting trill that filled the room with peace and contentment.

"Hello Fawkes. Have you come to sit with me while I wait for Harry?" Trying to keep my tone light, I shook my head at the look of contempt upon Ronald's face. A brief flash of a vision of my hand being held out prompted me as to what the phoenix wanted next.

Reaching up, I held my right hand, palm up in front of Fawkes. Gently, the ageless avian placed a coin-shaped object in my hand, attached to a goblin silver chain. Wrapping my fingers around it, I identified it by touch as an Order medallion.

Not just any medallion, but the one Ronald had taken up upon his formal induction into the Order the night before we were awarded the Order of Merlin almost six years ago. Trying to hide my shock and dismay at what the medallion was telling me, I shook my head slightly to clear the thoughts running through it and stared at Ronald.

The look of horror on his face at the appearance of the phoenix that was at the heart of the Order and the look of loathing he directed towards the medallion in my hand answered all of the questions that I had about him, but brought forth many more.

Suddenly, as if a bolt of lightning had passed through me, Fawkes tightened the grip of his talons upon my shoulder, and a series of memories began playing through my head. Moments between myself and Ronald, myself and Harry, the three of us together.

The tent after Ronald left us that dreadful evening. But the point of view wasn't mine, it was from the outside. I watch as both Harry and I focused on our disappointment in Ronald and ignored the pain of the other. I saw as Ronald returned that fated night, and how I blindly accepted the horribly wrong status quo that Harry and Ronald had forged before entering the tent, Harry's vain attempt to salvage our friendships, my ignoring my own desires and feelings for the roles that the three of us had mindlessly trapped ourselves in.

I watched the dynamics between the three of us grew and changed as the months and years passed. Watched myself keep Harry at arm's length, except when I needed him to comfort me, because I was afraid to admit to myself what I really felt.

To my shame I watched myself use my feelings for Ronald and his feelings for me as a shield against my own emotions, my own fears and insecurities. I saw how Harry and I had crafted the events that led us to here and now through our fears. Our disbelief that the other would love us. I saw the love that filled him when he launched himself between me and the attack he saw as certain death.

Standing slowly so as to not disturb the phoenix perched on my shoulder; I got out of the chair and stood there for a few seconds to get my bearings after 'reliving' the past few years.

"Thank you Fawkes, you've answered all of my questions." Silencing Ronald with a regretful look, I reached down and slipped the medallion into the pocket I had concealed in the gown I was wearing. Without taking my eyes from Ronald, I quickly removed a ring from my left hand and held it out to him.

As I held the ring out, and took in the look of regret and pain in Ronald's eyes, Fawkes trilled a short sequence that spoke of regret and ending. Giving my shoulder one last careful squeeze of his talons, he rose up and extended his wings as he disappeared in a ball of flames that illuminated the room, but had no effect on me other than leaving me with a feeling of hope.

"Ronald, you deserve better than this, better than me. I never truly meant to hurt you or deceive you, but I've just been forced to be honest with myself and I need to start over. To begin again."

Seeing the shocked look on Ron's face as he took the ring from my grasp, I nodded sadly.

"I'm truly sorry that it's come to this. Regardless of what you've said or done, this is my fault because I was a coward and refused to face my own fears and feelings.

"I realize that I have no right to ask anything of you, but I beg you to reconsider your feelings regarding Harry. When he wakes, he'll need all of his family and friends around him, and you two go too far back to allow this to come between you, forever. He did nothing to cause this, other than just being Harry."

Watching the kaleidoscope of emotions playing across Ronald's face, I waited for some sort of response from him. He looked over at Harry, lying in the bed unaware of the drama that was unfolding, and I could see a range of emotions that, surprisingly, included regret play out across his face. Ronald stepped back and stared at me, his cool blue eyes seeming to peer into my soul for a moment. He closed his and turned away, walking slowly towards the door.

As he put his hand on the door, he paused. Without turning, he softly spoke.

"We never really had a chance, did we?"

"Honestly, I don't know." My voice quavered on the verge of breaking as I could see the tension in his form from where I was standing.

"We cared about each other, loved each other, once upon a time. I still care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt by this. But I can't ignore the reality of the situation. Please don't let my failings come between you and Harry. I'm really not worth the two of you losing a friendship that has endured what yours has."

Chuckling bitterly, Ronald looked over his shoulder at me. For a second, I could see the old Ron Weasley, the one who played to win on the giant chessboard, rescued Harry from the icy water on the hunt, and salvaged the basilisk fangs during the Battle of Hogwarts, standing before me.

"Right now, the only thing in the universe that Harry and I would agree on is that you're wrong. You're worth any sacrifice, any hardship, any cost." Taking a deep breath he nodded.

"Do what you must; I'll be at the Burrow waiting for news."

Opening the door, he stepped into the hallway. Turning once more, he smiled stiffly.

"I hope he makes it, if for no other reason than you can finally get a chance to work this out between the two of you." Taking a deep breath, he concluded, "So you can finally know."

Before I could speak, he closed the door and was gone. Standing there, dumbfounded, I stared at the door for almost a minute before it opened. Seeing my mother's face appear in the doorway, I blinked and shook myself.

"Mi?"

Looking tentative, my mother eased the door open and stepped into the room holding a tray with a couple of sandwiches and some biscuits on it.

"Ronald came out and said you were staying until Harry recovers." Watching my mother place the tray on the table beside the door, she looked at me curiously. "Do you want your father and me to bring you a change of clothes?"

Looking down, seeing the bloodstains on the gown I was wearing, I numbly picked at one of the stained areas of the white fabric, expecting it to come off and finding myself saddened when it didn't.

"Thanks, Mum, I think that might be wise. You could use the floo downstairs to go to my flat, or Cara has the activation codes for the wards, she could take you there directly, if she doesn't mind."

Nodding, my mother smiled at me and looked over at Harry. Quirking an eyebrow, she waited for me to speak.

"They don't know anything more than they did. The physical damage from the curse was repaired easily enough, once he survived the initial attack he should have recovered easily. But he's not waking up and we don't know why."

Looking over my shoulder, I blinked back a few tears before I turned around to face my mother again.

"Tell everyone that we don't know anything. I'm going to wait in here with him, but I'll come out if there's any change."

"I'll let them know. The healers and mediwitches have been very kind. As soon as Cara and I get back from your flat, you can change."

As she quietly exited, I watched until the door closed and then I slowly turned and returned to the chair beside Harry's bed. Gently lowering myself into the chair, I arranged the bloodstained dress I was wearing, the wedding dress that was stained with the blood of the only wizard I had ever truly loved, and sighed.

"Harry, I don't know how much of that you've heard, but things here are all pear-shaped. I'm a mess, Ron's a mess, and all of our friends are waiting for some sort of sign that you're going to be fine."

Watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I allowed the silence of the room to return for a bit before I reached over and picked up the smaller of the two books that I had placed on the table beside his bed.

"I'm going to be here until we can talk, because I can't imagine my life without you. I need to tell you something that I should have said years ago, but I was too much of a coward to tell you then. Chastity thinks that in spite of whatever is keeping you from waking up, you're still aware on some level of what's going on around you.

"Surprisingly enough, I'm going to read to you. I think this one might be apropos, certainly Albus thought so when he left it to me years ago. Hopefully, the conniving old bastard's right one more time."

Settling back in the chair, I opened the ancient volume and turned to the page I had marked. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I allowed everything to fade, except for the words on the page before me and my awareness of Harry.

"This is from the _'Tales of Beadle the Bard'_." Pausing for a moment, I looked up and watched his chest rise and fall once before I began.

"High on a hill, in an enchanted garden, surrounded by tall walls, and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune."(2)

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><p>AN - (1) - Quote taken from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone"

(2) - Quote taken from "Tales of Beadle the Bard"

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><p>Interlude One – A Left turn at Albuquerque?<p>

_Time is irrelevant on the Ethereal Plane - or is it inside Harry's head?_

Awareness returned with a jolt.

One second I was launching myself through the air while I vainly tried to get one more shield up just as some poxy scion of the Lestrange family was casting a disturbingly nasty curse at Hermione's back, and the next, I'm sitting all alone in a place that looks distressingly familiar.

Looking around, I didn't need to look down to know that I had appeared totally starkers in that place that Hermione had dubbed the Ethereal Plane when we had finally gotten around to discussing what had happened that night in the Forbidden Forest.

Holding my breath, I listened for a few seconds, but this time there wasn't the disgusting mewling in the background that had followed me the last time I was here.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated for a second. As I opened them, I turned my head to the right and noticed that a set of dress robes had appeared beside me. Shaking my head, since I'd been wearing a muggle tuxedo moments ago, I stood up and proceeded to get dressed.

Looking around, I really couldn't discern any difference through the swirling mists in any direction. Closing my eyes, I tried to clear my mind as we'd worked on so many times. As my jumbled thoughts began to fall into some sort of order, it seemed to me that walking forward would serve as well as any other direction.

That voice in the back of my head, which has sounded disturbingly like Hermione since I realized it while she was in the Hospital Wing during that Chamber of Secrets fiasco, snickered in a very uncharacteristic fashion for such a serious situation and murmured _"Well, duh."_

So much for my brilliant intuition.

Opening my eyes, I began to move forward through the mists. As I walked, I began to see shadowed shapes before me. Suddenly, between one step and the next, I found myself in a familiar setting.

For all intents and purposes I was standing in the seventh floor corridor of Hogwarts castle, near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Looking to my left, I could see a wooden door where the entrance to the Room of Requirement would be, slightly ajar.

Putting my hand on the handle to the oaken door, I took a deep breath as I eased the door open and stepped inside. Standing in the doorway, I looked around, noticing that the room was in the configuration that I had last seen the night the three of us had come stumbling out of the tunnel from the Hogsmeade with Neville, all those years ago.

"Wotcher Harry." Turning my head sharply to the left, I was fairly surprised to see Nymphadora Lupin sitting on one of the low cabinets, kicking her feet back and forth and looking surprisingly like the last time I remembered seeing her up and about. Except for the whole not being pregnant thing, of course.

"Hey Tonks. You draw the short straw for being the welcoming committee tonight?"

Crossing the room, I came to a halt beside her and wrapped my arms around her. Hugging her tightly, I smiled as I felt her return the hug.

"I'm so sorry. It looks as if I'm not going to be able to keep my promise to Remus and you about making certain Teddy grows up."

"Nonsense, Harry."

I stepped back from her and stared at her, waiting for an explanation. Smiling coyly, her hair shifted from bubblegum pink to a truly shocking azure and back again while I waited. Her eyes shifted from their usual dark brown, almost black, to a shade of brown that looked disturbingly familiar.

"Would you rather have had Albus here tonight?"

"Nothing personal, but I'd rather not have ended up here at all." Allowing a bit of bitterness to creep into my voice, I shook my head as I continued.

"Although I suppose this does beat staying and having to figure out what to do with the next eighty or ninety years of my life."

"Other than being a father to my son?"

Arching an eyebrow in a very reminiscent manner, my irritation must have shown through because she smirked and chuckled.

"Harry, your mum and I argued about who was going to talk to you tonight, she finally decided that I'd have a better chance of getting you to stay on point, since the two of you would have been too distracted by the reunion."

"What point," I snapped, shaking my head as I looking around for something to sit on. As soon as I began, a barstool appeared next to me and I sat, turning my attention back to Tonks.

"Teddy's fine. Or at least he was when things started to drop in the pot. He was sitting with your mum and Fleur's parents at the wedding when everything started to go south. Andi grabbed him and they were being shielded by some of the Order members when I saw that Hermione and her family were outnumbered."

"Harry, he's fine and she's fine." The look of understanding on her face was in response to my surprise as she sussed out the question I pointedly wasn't asking.

"Well, fine might be too strong a statement, but physically Hermione's in good shape."

"Thank Merlin." Releasing the breath I'd been holding, I closed my eyes for a few seconds. "I can't believe that there were still enough Death Eaters around to mount a public attack like this."

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

I opened my eyes in shock to stare at Tonks. I could see the anger in her eyes as her hair shifted to an electric blue and became spikier than normal.

"I can't believe you were just going to do sit there, do nothing…"

"Nothing?"

Remember those last frantic seconds as I tried to get between Hermione and that curse, I stared at Tonks in disbelief. "I'm here, aren't I? Does this look as if I was doing nothing?"

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><p><em>AN2 - Edited for minor spelling and grammar errors on 11 September 2011. thanks to Dragon451, couragetcd, Euphemism, and Alix33 for their help. Greatly appreciated as always. _


	2. As Time Goes By

… and Love

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><p><em><strong>AN –** The first order of business is a reminder that this is a fanfiction, not a canon story and I'm not JK Rowling who, along with various and sundry corporate partners, owns the Harry Potter universe. Many thanks to her. Unlike JKR, I receive no compensation or even gratuities for writing. And as JS Bach pointed out in a letter one time, the gratuity is quite separate from the compensation, of which I have neither._

_And a word of thanks to everyone who's reviewed this story, thus far. A special thanks to Qoheleth who took the time to let me know how to get the ellipsis to show in the title of this story. _

_Just a note. As a couple of people have pointed out, the Interlude ended a bit abruptly. While the various chapters of this story are going to happen across a longer period of time, thanks to the vagaries of the space-time continuum, or the strangeness of Harry's mind, the entire conversation between Harry and Tonks only takes a few minutes. _

_And now, back to our story.  
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><p><strong>Chapter Two – As Time Goes By<strong>

_19 September, 2003 – Room 611 – The Lily Potter Dark Arts Trauma Ward - St. Mungo's, London  
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_Time itself has no meaning for me. Time was stopped and imprisoned the moment Harry uttered his last two words to me before losing consciousness. And time will continue to not have any meaning until those green eyes open and take in the world around them, around him._

_The world hasn't gone away, if anything it's become more insistent in its attempts to reclaim our attention. While my office was quite prepared for me to be gone for a month on my honeymoon several thousand miles away, somehow three weeks sitting in a room at St. Mungo's less than a half mile from my old desk is quite a different thing. _

_I detect the not-so-subtle hand of my assistant Cara in this sudden onslaught of parchment making its way to the hospital. As a Ravenclaw alumnus, she is sufficiently clever to find things that simply must have my attention drawn to them in an attempt to keep me anchored to the here and now by something other than Harry._

_Petunia has been coming every day, but the poor woman is stretching herself too thin. I had a long talk with Chastity two nights ago; she's going to work on getting Petunia to spend more time with the twins. I would think that focusing on her grandchildren would be a pleasant counterpoint to sitting here and fretting over Harry._

_Mum and Andromeda have been taking turns bringing Teddy by the hospital, to see me as much as to see Harry I suspect. Fleur has been joining them, adding Victoire to the mix much to the amusement of the staff here. The pair perch themselves on the bed, one on either side of Harry, and carry on long conversations with him; very in-depth for a five and six year old I'm certain._

_Their insistence on keeping Harry updated on their lives so he doesn't miss anything both warms and tears at my heart. And their unshakable belief in Harry's return mocks me every time they tell him of their plans for the future. None of us can imagine a future without Harry in it, but I fear I'm losing my ability to imagine one with him. _

Closing the journal, I place it back on table beside Harry's bed before turning back to the parchments that occupy the surface of the small desk one of the staff had brought in a few days previous. Seeing that nothing needed to be done, just this second, I got up and stretched before moving over and perching myself on the edge of Harry's bed.

Idly running my fingers through Harry's fringe, I focused on the faint lightning shaped scar that summed up Harry's existence for far too many people. Trying not to dwell on the circumstance we currently found ourselves in, the opening of the door to the room was neither unexpected nor unwelcome.

"Hello Mum."

"Mi, how's Harry?" Coming across the room, my mother reached out a hand and placed it gently on my arm. "Any changes?"

"Nothing concrete, just a different 'feel' about him since last night."

Looking up, I can see the concern written on her face, concern for both of us.

"Teddy's with Daddy?"

"Actually, both Teddy and Victoire are under the watchful eye of Luna." Seeing my mother's amused reaction to the look on my face, I blushed a bit.

"She's a dear child, and she's been a great help over the past couple of weeks."

"I know Mum, and I do appreciate everyone working to take care of the things that I don't seem to be able to get to right now."

"Hermione, it's not as if you're skiving off, taking a holiday to France. The only thing the healers can agree on is that your presence has stabilized Harry's condition. He's not deteriorating; they've seen none of the usual signs of physical degradation that they would expect after three weeks like this. Your being here means they haven't had to give him any of those potions they normally would."

The specter of Harry's condition, and the knowledge that it was to me that Harry had officially delegated all questions regarding his health and treatments was something that had weighed on my mind from the moment Chastity, in her role as Healer Dursley, had broken to me in those chaotic moments after we'd first arrived at St. Mungo's. The look on Ronald's face when he first saw me signing the parchments for Harry, his annoyance and jealousy, was balanced against the relief and gratitude from Petunia. While she was more than willing to, she was happy that someone who understood what the healers were saying was going to be making decisions regarding Harry's care. But the thought of having to someday in the future …

"Mum, I'm so worried. This is my fault, I'm the reason he's here."

Glancing back down at him, I blush at the peaceful expression on his face. He's so seldom known peace in his life, I almost feel guilty for trying to drag him back to a world that has been so unkind to him.

"Maybe I should just let him escape, find happiness if he can."

"Hermione Jane!" Looking up at the tone in my mother's voice, her expression is one of shock and horror.

"How can you even think such a thing?"

"Unfortunately, I've been forced to think about 'such a thing'." Seeing the look of understanding in her eyes as she realized that I was the one who would have to make the determination if things never changed, I blushed and closed my eyes.

"Chastity came in late one night that first week and we had a very long talk about things. Even more so than medicine, wizarding healers can maintain life for a much extended period of time, far longer than anyone wants to admit. But that wasn't what I was talking about, just now."

"Mi, talk to me. Tell me what you've been thinking about since you've been here."

Gathering my thoughts, I opened my eyes and looked down at Harry who appeared to be doing nothing more than sleeping. Letting my hand gently cup his cheek, I exhaled loudly.

"I've been forced to be honest with myself, maybe for the first time in years. I've been just like everyone else, all of those people I've scorned over the years. I used Harry for my own selfish needs, never thinking about what he needed from me, what he wanted. If he even wanted anything at all." Trying to keep the bitterness from my voice, I summoned up a brave smile.

"I know it's ridiculous, but I can't help wondering what would have happened if I'd summoned up the courage to tell him what I felt, all those years ago."

"Mi, you were twelve, the boy was eleven. Things were going pear-shaped very quickly from what you've told your father and me. You went and got help for Harry, saved his life from what I've been able to gather. And I'd be willing to bet he knew."

"No one had ever said it to him; I still don't know if anyone's ever said that to him and meant it."

Feeling ashamed, I closed my eyes and rested my hand flat on Harry's chest. Feeling the gentle rising and falling of his chest, his pulse firm and steady, I took strength and comfort from him as I always had.

"He deserves so much more, and he's had so little…"

Trailing off, I vainly tried to find something; anything I could say or do that would convey to my mother how guilty I felt, how helpless I had become.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Opening my eyes in surprise, I stared at my mother for almost a minute before she continued.

"I'm serious, if you feel this way, what are you going to do to fix things?"

"Do?"

Staring at my mother for a second, I watched as she had that extremely annoying expression on her face as she stared back. I know that look, it's the same one Ronald always complained about when I would stand there knowing he had access to all the answers but couldn't put his finger on the information. For just a moment, my sympathy level for Ron went up as I realized just how utterly annoying I had been while we had been together.

"Mother, there's really not anything I can do, at the moment, except for waiting, a bit of prayer, and hoping I'll be afforded the chance to try to make this right."

Seeing the hint of mischief on her face, I shook my head and held up my hand.

"Please, I so don't need Uncle Martin's observation about hoping in one hand and performing a bodily function in the other."

Pausing a moment, we both smiled as we thought about her older brother and his continual scorn for those who simply 'hoped'.

"We're still not totally certain exactly why that curse has affected Harry in the way it has, much less what our next steps are, other than to wait." Trying to turn the conversation back to a safer area, I allowed myself to start thinking about the immediate 'why' of why we were here.

"Mi, that's not what I meant and you know it."

Shaking her head, Mum came around the bed and sat on the other side. A momentary flash of seeing Teddy and Victoire perched in the exact same spots brought a smile to my face as she settled herself in and took Harry's hand between hers.

"What are you going to do about Harry? For God's sake, you almost married Ronald. If Fawkes hadn't shown up…"

"Maybe Harry would have said something?" Seeing the look on her face, I blushed at the hopeful tone in my voice and immediately conceded the point.

"He would never do that, he'd want me to be happy and he trusts and respects me enough to let me make the decision on what was going to make me happy." Closing my eyes and letting my head hang, I rested my hand gently against Harry's cheek.

"Certainly did make a complete mare's nest out of our lives, didn't I."

"If it's any consolation, it's something the two of you worked on together."

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose him. And I don't know if I can take that."

Looking thoughtful, my mother turned her attention to Harry. Taking and holding his hand, she was silent for over a minute as she gazed down at the fading scars on the back of his hand.

Shuddering a bit as she remembered that night in Sydney when I finally told her the real story behind that entire year, she gently squeezed his hand and looked back up at me.

"He's never failed you; I sincerely doubt he's going to start now. But you need to believe that Harry will come back. That he'll come back to you. For you."

And there was the crux of it. My mother summed up the past three weeks in a few short sentences. That boiled down to one simple thing.

Belief.

I'm not certain what the root of my disbelief was, but I fear it's that I know that I truly don't deserve for him to come back to me. After making such a hash of things for so long, what right did I have to expect Harry to return to me, for me? Looking up with tears glistening in my eyes, I told my mother in a halting voice of my fears and self-doubts. How I had accepted the roles that the three of us had cast ourselves in; how I had taken so much from him over the years and given him so little in return.

"Mi. I'm not certain it's a simple as you're making it sound. The three of you grew into your relationships over time. It wasn't something that you entered into on a whim." Smiling wistfully, Mum looked at me to make certain I was listening before she continued.

"I've seen Harry when you've come into a room. The look on his face, the light in his eyes, the way his entire demeanor changes once he finds you in the crowd. And none of its conscious, he's simply not complete unless you're there.

"You may have not given him everything he needed, but you gave him everything he allowed himself to ask of you. The two of you were both very adept at walking the edge of caring too much, too deeply. You both knew exactly how close you could come to it before you'd have to admit to yourselves and to each other how you felt."

Staring at my mother in disbelief, I started to ask the obvious question, and then stopped because the answer was equally obvious. Since Harry and I had found them in Australia, I had worked very diligently on renewing the family ties between the three of us that had suffered so during my years at Hogwarts.

Not only had I finally made a clean start with them regarding everything that had occurred in the past, they were very much a part of my current life. Harry was at the house in Oxford as often, or more often if truth be told, as I was, and they were close to many of our other friends.

But, there was one big zero-zone in my life that was never discussed, never acknowledged. While we spoke of Harry, and the things that Harry and I had done or were doing, the relationship between us was never a topic for discussion. We were raising a child together, but 'we' were never discussed. Harry was simply Harry, and the dynamic that was the two of us simply existed.

Thinking back, I could remember Mum trying to steer the conversation towards the two of us when they first came back, and how I had deftly turned the conversation to Ronald every time she did. How Daddy would attempt to include Harry into planning for things we would be doing together and how I had pulled Ronald into it instead, even knowing full well that Ronald would find some reason to not follow through with whatever the plans would be, but Harry would save the day.

Seeing my mother knew that I had realized how I had kept the subject of 'Harry and Hermione' from being discussed, I blushed and closed my eyes as I whispered, "Out with it. Let me hear it."

"Merciful Heavens, Mi. It's not my intent to be a 'told you so'. That can wait ten or twelve years down the road when I'm sitting there surrounded by grandchildren and I'm explaining to Teddy why it took his mum and dad so long to pull their heads out of their arses." Snapping my eyes open, I stared in disbelief.

"The only thing I want to do now is help you find a way out of this trap that the two of you have found yourselves in."

"Mother, in case you haven't noticed, Harry's in a coma. I think that has to take priority."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, it would seem to me that I really need him to wake up so I can begin to fix things." Starting to think that the strain had finally gotten to her, I began to worry when I saw 'that look' in her eyes as she volleyed the question back to my side of the court.

"That wasn't my question. Why is he in the coma?"

Swallowing the retort that he was there because some poxy wannabe dark wizard got in a lucky shot, I actually stopped and thought about the question. Why was Harry just lingering?

The gross physical damage was actually easily repaired. If I would have been thinking, I would have been able to repair almost the entire physical trauma that the spell had inflicted rather than waiting for the trauma teams to arrive. The attack itself, if it didn't kill its target at once, seemed simple to recover from.

After three weeks, the best that the healers could say is that the curse was a very old one, and it seemed to affect those who had brushed death differently than it did others. Chastity's uncle Hippocrates called it a 'thestral kick' since the old tomes he found it in discussed it while alluding to those skeletal serpentine equines.

"I don't think he wants to come home."

Letting that hang there, I looked up and saw a strange look in my mother's eyes.

"It's the only thing I can think of."

"Is that what you think, or is that what you fear?" she countered gently. "Are you afraid he won't come back, or that he will?"

"Afraid that he will?"

"Now that you've admitted to yourself what you feel, if he returns you'll have to decide whether or not you're going to go that next step. And if you do, then the entire thing leaves your control because you're dependent upon his response."

"Of course I am, Mother. It's just…" Stopping myself, I could feel the signs of panic settling in. Not the 'fight or flight' type of panic that I could control when it all dropped in the pot, usually with Harry by my side as the hexes started flying, but the panic that comes when I'm in the lab or working on a new spell.

"Mum, I'm so scared that I can barely think. If I say it, if I speak the words, then I've created something that I'm not certain what it is, or if I can control it."

"Mi, you're not alone in this, and it's not unique to you two. Everyone panics, at least a little, when they find themselves totally at the mercy of the other person, especially when it's something this important. But if it's any consolation, I think that if you'll think about it, Harry's already told you time and time again what his answer is, and what it will be."

"Not that I hold it against him since I froze when I had the chance to tell him, but he was pretty clear the one time Ronald came out and asked him how he felt about me, and it wasn't a pledge of undying romantic love."

Seeing the look of disbelief on her face, I recounted what Ronald had told me had happened the night he returned to us on the hunt. I went through the entire story of how we had been deserted that night in December and how Ronald had reappeared while Harry was foolishly trying to retrieve the Sword of Gryffindor without me.

I recounted what the Horcrux had shown Ronald as his fears about Harry and I, and I related, with tears streaming down my face, what Harry had said on his way back to the tent when Ron finally came out and asked him about what was going on between us.

As I finished, I could see 'that' look on her face again and I stared at her in disbelief. "Mum, I've just related the thing that seems to prove that Harry doesn't feel about me the way I wish he did, and you're looking at me the way you did when I gave you my opinion of '_Little Women'_."

"And if you'll remember, young lady, I gave you that look because while your synopsis of the story was technically accurate, and your logic flawless from a purely clinical point of view, seeing it as simply an 'expose of nineteenth century attitudes towards women framed through the lens of American Puritanism showing that even the author couldn't rise above her culture when she married Jo off just to appease her readers', missed the point entirely. However, since you were only seven at the time, I had hoped you would figure things out as you got older, but I can see that I might have been a bit optimistic in that assessment."

"What did I miss?" Feeling the emotional storms that had been threatening to overwhelm me since that moment when I realized exactly how close I had come to making the biggest mistake of my life and fearing what it had cost me coming to a head, I closed my eyes. "Mum, please. I'm afraid I've already lost him, what did I miss?"

"Mi, just a couple of small things. Firstly, what's Harry's instinctive reaction anytime something he wants comes into conflict with what he knows, or thinks he knows, that someone else wants or needs?"

"He usually finds a way for the other…" Stopping myself, I felt a bit of the ice in the pit of my stomach begin to melt. "Ronald had just come back, I'd been acting like a total loon for weeks and Harry knew how much Ron fancied me and for how long. That insufferable idiot was trying to do what he thought we wanted him to do."

"I doubt that Harry takes sole honors on the 'insufferable idiot' front, but you do see how that entire scene between Ronald and Harry was Harry trying to do what needed to be done, partially to keep the team together to face down Voldemort, but primarily because he felt that was what you wanted, would make you happy." Smiling smugly, she was just sitting there with her eyes twinkling, daring me to disagree with her.

"Mum, it could mean exactly what he said that night, what he's said on numerous nights and times. For Heaven's sake, he was at my wedding, he bought me a gift."

"Hermione, fine. If that's what you want to believe, if that's what you need to believe. I'm going to ask you one more question and then I'll leave off."

Nodding, not trusting myself to speak, I blinked the tears from my eyes. Mind racing with conflicting thoughts and hopes, I waited for what my mother considered her parting shot on this subject.

"That night, when Ron asked Harry about how he felt about you, how you felt about each other, Harry told him that he 'loved you like a sister'."

Pausing for a moment, she looked me dead in the eye and asked, "I've forgotten, what Harry's sister's name is?"

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><p><strong>Interlude Two – Smackdown in the Room of Requirement<strong>

_Time is still irrelevant on the Ethereal Plane - or are we still inside Harry's head? Either way, we're still eavesdropping on Harry and Tonks._

"Harry, for having kept the attention and the affection of one of the most brilliant witches to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts, you are incredibly gormless." Disgusted, Tonks glared at me as if I were one of Draco's pet trolls from back in the day.

"The only thing that saved your arse is that Fawkes did the horribly clichéd 'is there anyone who knows of any reason why this witch and wizard shouldn't be married' thing."

Staring at the irate witch across from me, I swallowed my immediate retort and tried to take a breath and think. Hermione is always telling me to think, and after twelve years I occasionally humor her by remembering to think before I do something incredibly impetuous or say something fairly foolish.

"Tonks, I'm not certain what we're doing. While Fawkes' interference was unexpected, it might be for the best. It'll give them some time, time for Ron to finish getting his act together before he marries her. He just needs…"

"…to realize that spiting Harry Potter isn't really a good reason to marry a witch. But it's not totally his fault since you've allowed this to go on far too long."

"I've allowed?" Staring at her in disbelief, I shook my head, trying to see if this was just a hallucination. "Trust me, I was the last person asked when my two best mates started fancying each other."

"Harry, I believe you were the first person asked, possibly the only person asked. Didn't Ronald show you that ridiculous book he was using to 'win' Hermione's affections?"

Thinking back, I remembered Ron's excitement ages ago over that book his brothers had given him, and how it would help him convince Hermione to see him in a different light. While the fact he gave me a copy thinking I still fancied his sister is still more than a bit disturbing, I squirmed a bit and nodded my head. Looking at Tonks warily, I started, "Well, yes. But that was just something…"

"…where he had, once again, 'staked his claim' to her, and decided to use these patently fake ruses to convince her to take him seriously." Glaring at me, Tonks' hair began to get fuller and edge more towards brown as she stared me down.

"He could have been using it as a guide on how to change himself for the better. And just stop that."

"Stop what?" Smiling smugly, her nose shrank a bit until it mimicked Hermione's and her eyes twinkled disturbingly like hers used to on those rare occasions when we were together without any impending disasters looming on the horizon.

"He wasn't attempting to grow up; he was looking for a part to play. It was an act. Those aren't 'relationship' helps, they're pickup lines. You allowed him to treat your best mate like some slightly tipsy biff in a bar that he was chatting up to see if he could get her on her back."

"It wasn't like that at all." Growing more frustrated with this entirely ridiculous line of thought, I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of why I was going through this. It was bad enough I was dead, but to be harangued by one of my best friends over the biggest regret of my life…

Eyes flashing open, I stared at Tonks in disbelief. "Why am I here? I'm dead, so what does it matter? Do I really need to get my 'Welcome to the Hereafter' brochure chock full of the one thing I effed up and regret the most? Isn't it enough that I had to live my life without her without you piling on and kicking me in the pills with the fact she's going to spend the rest of her life with that tosser?"

Smiling smugly, Tonks watched me for a second before she started chuckling. "Harry, if I weren't a happily married witch I'd kiss you for finally dropping your 'I'm too cool to notice she's breaking my heart' act." Holding up her hand to keep me from answering her, she plowed on.

"Didn't it ever occur to you to tell your best mate she's not only getting married to the wrong wizard, but a total tosser to boot?"

Opening my mouth, I started to answer, and then stopped. Feeling my face turn red, closed my mouth and just looked at her. Seeing that she was waiting for an answer, I shook my head.

"It wasn't my place to tell her that," I replied trying to keep from getting into this subject too deeply.

"Not your place?" Looking at me as if I had sprouted a Dark Mark, Tonks eyes were beginning to spark dangerously while she was glaring at me.

"It's not your place to tell your best mate, the witch who's saved your life, who's life you've saved, who you were raising my son with, that she's about to make a mistake that's going to make her miserable? If she was about to pick up a mislabeled potion flask, would you tell her?"

"Of course, but…"

"If she were about to open a door on the night of a full moon and there was a werewolf on the stoop, would you tell her?"

"Is it Mooney or someone else," I asked cheekily, stopping her in mid rant. Seeing that her glare had ratcheted up a notch, I blushed. "Anyone other than Remus, I'd tell her."

"Then why in Merlin's name would you even think of not telling her that marrying Ron Weasley is a huge mistake?"

"I can't be objective; I've known them both too long. I can't interfere, it's her choice," I offered lamely.

"Harry, that's shite and you know it. If she was preparing to marry Marcus Flint you wouldn't hesitate to tell her she's making a mistake."

"That's different. Flint wasn't our friend since the beginning…"

"So your friends have a free pass to hurt her? Some best mate you are."

Growing frustrated, I hopped up from the stool and started pacing around the room. "This is different. Ron's fancied her since our fourth year at school. He cares about her, he'll make her happy."

"So she's going to be happy quitting her job, tossing away her career and staying home to keep house and birth the next generation of Weasleys? All the while Ron's impressing every bit of fluff he meets as one of the 'heroes' of the Final Battle?"

"Don't be mental. She's finally gotten things settled and moving forward with the house-elves, it's not perfect but she's done all she can from there. Now she's moving over to DMLE, she's going to be study law and have a shot at making a real difference for all of England."

"And Ron wants her to be another Molly. Stay at home, keep house, cooks his meals and raise gingers as far as the eye can see." Staring at me, daring me to disagree, Tonks allowed her hair to turn Weasley red. "Some legacy for the 'smartest witch of the age', no?"

Fuming, I started to refute her, but found I couldn't. I remembered the last time Ron and I spoke, the argument that we had when I confronted him over the things that I had noticed, things that an auror could only see in a light that a best mate could never see. Stopping my pacing, I just shook my head.

"This is pointless. Whether or not Ron wants her to stay at home or run for Minister of Magic, I think being dead pretty much cuts me out. Whatever I'd say or not say to her is moot."

Letting her features cycle through a bizarre montage of faces, being faced with Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory, and Lord Voldemort in rapid success was more than a bit creepy, she finally settled into mimicking Hermione and looked me dead in the eye.

"Harry, that's where you're wrong. The big problem with your theory is you're not really dead."


	3. Could You Repeat the Question?

… and Love

_A/N – Just checked my email, I still don't own Harry Potter or any of the associated properties and/or concepts. Everything Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners. No copyright infringement is intended or accomplished, i simply open the side gate and let the characters out to play when they're not busy doing mall openings in Cedar Rapids. _

_Also, for the record, I don't own any of the rights to Alex Granger's favorite film, or the Princess Bride, both of which get alluded to later in this installment. It's only a coincidence that Harry's the rightful wielder of the most powerful wand in existence, it has nothing to do with the name. I don't think. Something someone should ask JKR the next time she does an interview.  
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_We're almost there_.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three – Could You Repeat the Question?<strong>

_19 September, 2003 – Room 611 – The Lily Potter Dark Arts Trauma Ward - St. Mungo's, London_

"Mother, don't be absurd, Harry is an only…"

Breaking off, I felt incredibly foolish because I knew I was sitting there looking totally gobsmacked. Staring at my mother in disbelief, one thought was racing around the inside of my mind like a budgie hopped up on caffeine with nowhere to go.

_Harry never had a sister!_

"That poxy prat lied. I'm going to…"

Shutting my mouth at the look on my mother's face, I slumped back and closed my eyes. Dare I parse that scene out to its simplest interpretation? Would Occam's razor cut through the dross or lead me to slice my wrists? If Harry didn't have a sister, was he saying …

"… he loved me?"

"Present tense dear, present tense," my mother replied. Her eyes twinkling, I could see the look in them that said I was finally getting close to the answer. "I really can't think of anything that you could do that would change how the boy's felt about you, so I imagine that the last thing he was thinking was regret for never telling you."

"I think he did, or at least tried to." Closing my eyes, I could hear Harry's last whispered words, finishing the sentence I couldn't all those years ago, still echoing in my mind. "He did the thing I couldn't finish, said what I couldn't."

"Which brings us back to the question, 'What the bloody hell are you going to do about it?'."

Sitting back, my mother was staring at me with a look of satisfaction on her face. I could see in her eyes that, for her, the situation was crystal clear. This made exactly one of us in the room that understood, since I was floored and I was fairly certain Harry wasn't seeing an easy way out of this either.

"This brings us back to the impasse of Harry being in a coma, Mother. That severely limits my options."

"Why? What would you do if he weren't that you can't do now?" Seeing the shocked look on my face, my mother smirked, "Other than that, of course."

"Mother, that's not where I was going, but I can't just tell him. Not like this."

"Again, why? You said it yourself, he's lingering. Loitering. Waiting for something. Waiting for you to pick up your Gryffindor courage and tell the boy how you feel perhaps?"

"I …" Stopping, my mind was racing in circles. Telling Harry how I felt, how I'd always felt was frightening, but something I realized needed to be done. But like this?

"I don't know. Is it fair?" Shaking my head at how absurd that sounded, even to me, I sighed. "I just wish I knew 'why'."

"Why he's lingering? Why you've never told the boy that you love him? Why he's never told you he loved you? Why the two of you have done everything but confess to each other? Why you're scared spitless to tell him."

"Those are good places to start," I replied. Looking over at Harry, I could see that he was still just lying there, as if he wasn't integral to the discussion going on around him.

"Then just start." Staring at me, daring me to contradict or run away, my mother challenged me with her eyes to just step up and do … something.

"Here? Now?"

"I can step out into the corridor if the two of you would like a bit of privacy," Mum countered.

"That's not it." Looking down at Harry, seeing the peaceful look on his face and his chest continued on with its rhythmic rise and fall, I swallowed against the bile I could taste in the back of my mouth. Reaching down, I closed my eyes and whispered.

"What do I do if he doesn't?"

"Will you mean it?"

Opening my eyes and staring at my mother in disbelief, I numbly nodded my head, too shocked to speak.

"Then what you do is love him. You do what I did when your father was in the hospital after that accident, you simply love him. But you do it knowing that he knows, you do it knowing he loves you back." Pausing for a second, my mother smiled knowingly at me before she continued.

"Harry sat there, night after night for three weeks while you were lollygagging around doing an imitation of your namesake," she began once again twitting me on the irony of my name and having ended up imitating a statue during second year. "He talked about that once, and he told me that he sat there, night after night, because he didn't believe that you would come back, that Fate would interfere and keep the school's matron from bringing your back. He was twelve, scared, and all alone."

Looking tenderly down at the object of her story, Mum gently traced the scars on the back of his hand before finishing.

"And though he never said, I'd be willing to wager the house in Oxford that he told you every single night. So the question is, do you feel lucky?"

Staring at my mother, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of her using that horribly clichéd line from one of Daddy's favorite guilty pleasures, I realized that she had distilled my entire dilemma down to its most basic element.

After all of the chances over the past dozen years where we hadn't acted, was there one more chance for us left? To complete the scene, had we used up our six chances or only five? And like that nameless robber in the film, I had to know.

Did I feel lucky?

Getting up, I gently levitated Harry up and then over a bit so there was more room for me. Sitting on the bed with the headboard at my back, I gently returned Harry to the bed with his head in my lap. Looking down at him, I took a couple of deep breaths and let my fingers run through his hair before reaching down and taking one of his hands in mine.

Taking one last breath, before I could reason my way out of doing what I knew deep down needed to be done, I opened my mouth and uttered four words that had been poised on the tip of my tongue for over a dozen years.

"Harry, I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>Interlude Three – If You Say I'm 'Mostly Dead', I'll be Forced to Smack You<strong>

_Time continues to be irrelevant on the Ethereal Plane - though Harry is seriously considering the possibility that this is all happening in his head. We're still eavesdropping on Harry and Tonks, but we're almost done._

Stunned, I stared at Tonks in disbelief.

"I'm not a Horcrux this time; I don't have one back there. Of course I'm dead."

As Tonks' hair began to turn white, I held up my hand and shook my head. "Don't even think about it."

"What?"

Letting her hair shift back to bubblegum pink, Tonks pulled an innocent face.

"All I was going to do was point out that this isn't quite what it seems to be. The curse that hit you is an especially nasty one; its target usually wastes away tormented by their failures in life."

Staring at Tonks incredulously, I resisted the urge to say something snarky, waiting her out until she smiled and continued.

"What he didn't take into account was the fact that you've already died, once. Not too many folks running around who can make that claim, and you weren't the original target. Hermione's reaction to that curse would have been very different, and Diego was hoping that he could slip away with everyone's attention on her."

"Diego?"

"Diego Lestrange. Third or fourth cousin twice removed from a sept of the family that got banished from England back around the time of the Spanish Armada. But he's not important here."

Smiling at the look on my face, Tonks picked up her explanation.

"And for the purposes of that spell, the fact you had already died and the fact that this time you 'died' acknowledging the fact that you had unfinished business has kept your body chugging along back in London for the past three weeks and has us chatting about what the bloody hell you're going to do."

Looking blank, I shook my head. "What?"

"Before you checked out, when your head was cradled in Hermione's lap, what was the last thing you said to her?"

Closing my eyes, I thought back to what for me was moments ago. When the spell hit me, my mind was drawn back to our first year at Hogwarts when we were racing to keep the Philosopher's Stone from whom we thought to be Severus Snape. The moment when I went on ahead and Hermione went back for help, I could still hear what she said to me, and I heard the words she didn't say all those years ago.

"…and love," I breathed out. Seeing the look on Tonks' face, I swallowed and closed my eyes.

"The last thing I saw was her face, leaning over me with tears streaming down her cheeks."

"I know it wasn't the tender parting moment you shared with Severus, but you both finally acknowledged the thing that had been hanging between you since that day."

"And?" Realizing that I was floundering here, I put my hand on hers. "Throw me a line, Tonks. Can we fix this?"

"Do you want to?" Growing serious, her hair became a mousier brown than I'd ever seen it. Even when she was frustrated about her inability to connect with Remus, it hadn't been that colour.

"Don't give me that look, it's a valid question. The two of you have danced around this for a dozen years. She almost married Ronald and you've serially dated most of the single witches at the Ministry over the past five years."

"You make it sound as if I'm some sort of depraved perv," I groused, not missing the amused look on Tonks' face.

"Ron got weird after I finished auror training and started complaining about Hermione and I attending Ministry functions together. He'd complain all night about having to go, but he'd be an absolute git to her if we went together."

"Yes, yes. So you'd ask the nearest bit of fluff 'Wizard who Won' groupie on those weeks you weren't speaking to Ginevra. And when were the only times the two of you almost enjoyed those things?"

"When we were together." Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I pushed my glasses up and pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off the headache I just knew was coming.

"I know, I know. What more do you want me to do?" Looking up and seeing the exasperated look on Tonks' face, actually it was Hermione's face at that moment before it morphed into Cho's, I blushed. "Just stop that and tell me what I'm missing here."

"Harry, congratulations. You're actually slower that Wolfie was." Reaching over and thunking me on the back of his head with her thumb and forefinger, Tonks let her features drift towards a passable imitation of Minerva's and sighed. With a brogue.

"What's the one thing ye hanna done yet?"

Stopping and taking a deep breath before blurting out the obvious, I decided that I needed to think before answering. If for no other reason than if I drove Tonks beyond her breaking point, she might very well storm off to wherever it is people go up here and I'd end up stuck in a bit of the afterlife that looks like the Room of Requirement until I figured my way out of it. And since this wasn't Platform 9¾, there wasn't a convenient Hogwarts Express to take me where I needed to go.

Running the past dozen years through in my mind, which would really ironic if this were all merely happening in my mind, I could only come to one conclusion. I'd never admitted to Hermione that she was the most important person in my life and that I'd loved her since I could remember. Ignoring the snarky _'You also never told me not to touch anything on the floor around Ronald's four-poster in the dorms. I had to find out the hard way why I should never pick up his socks for him,'_ my conscience / inner Hermione added, Smiling wryly at the memory of the time that Hermione was cleaning up after Ron and her horrified expression when Seamus explained why even the elves wouldn't touch his socks, I turned my attention back to Tonks and chuckled..

"I've never told her how much she really means to me and how much I love her."

Eyeing me suspiciously, Tonks studied me for almost a minute. Finally giving in to curiosity, she asked, "And that's humorous?"

"Actually, no," I admitted. "It's sad and pathetic and something I plan to remedy just as soon as I get a chance to." Seeing the "So?" look in her eyes, I shrugged.

"I was reminded of something else I never told her about." Seeing the curious look on her face, I quickly shook my head. "Trust me; you're better off not knowing why the house-elves wouldn't pick up Ron's socks in the dorm."

"Well?"

Staring at her in disbelief, I tried again to fathom out what she was getting at. With nothing coming to mind, and my inner Hermione suspiciously silent at exactly the wrong moment, I simply replied, "Well what?"

"Tell her."

"Now?" Dumbfounded, I stared at Tonks in disbelief. "Uh, in case you haven't noticed, the witch in question isn't here at the moment."

"So?"

Realizing that I really wasn't any further along than I had been moments ago, I just went with my first thought,

"Well, since she's there and I'm here, I'd sort of like to have us both in the same place before I tell her, since telling her would be the whole point of this."

"Harry, you're here, but you're also 'there'." Seeing that I wasn't following, she closed her eyes as her hair cycled though a number of colours that were not only not intended for human beings, but I wasn't absolutely certain a couple of them actually existed before that moment in nature. Finally she leaned back and opened her eyes.

"Remember when you ended up on Platform 9¾ with Albus?" Seeing me nod, she continued.

"While you were there, did you actually disappear from that clearing in the Forbidden Forest?"

Not waiting for me to answer in the negative, she plowed on while she had some momentum.

"You're 'here', but you're also there. Telling Hermione here that you love her will also accomplish what you need to do."

Watching her warily, I slowly nodded as I mulled it through. Whether or not I was actually in 'Heaven's waiting room', as Hermione had dubbed it one time or this was all just occurring between my ears, apparently the pertinent facts were that I was also back there with Hermione and telling Hermione I loved her here would suffice for both places.

Reaching down for that mythical 'Gryffindor courage' that I've found exists in most people over the years, not just Gryffindors, I took a deep breath and released it. Fixing Tonks with a stare, I waited until she nodded before muttering, "And if I open my eyes and Narcissa Malfoy is staring back at me, we're going to have a much longer talk, next time," I closed my eyes and poured every ounce of conviction and feeling I could muster into what came next.

"Hermione, I love you."


	4. Convergence  It's Not Just for Goths

… and Love

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN –** First of all, nothing has changed regarding the state of the multiverse and the ownership of the Harry Potter franchise within it. JK Rowling and her various and sundry corporate partners still own the Harry Potterverse. Anything remotely familiar etc, etc, etc. And a grateful nod to the madness that is Convergence. And sadly, it's not just for Goths anymore. Pity. Of course, some Visigoths might a worthy addition._

_Just a slight warning. The ending takes a bit of a left turn. Not quite Albuquerque, but heading in the direction of Roswell it would seem. While I didn't quite intend it, this story seems to be wandering towards another storyline._

_And before I forget, Happy Birthday Miss Granger! _

_See, not only am I not JKR, I'm not RBW either._

_And now, on with our show.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four – Convergence – It's Not Just for Goths Anymore<strong>

_0845 - 19 September, 2003 – Room 611 – The Lily Potter Dark Arts Trauma Ward - St. Mungo's, London_

.

"Harry, I love you." "Hermione, I love you."

As both sentences echoed in the room, several things happened at once. Every monitoring and diagnostic charm focused on Harry began to trill at once. Helen took a deep breath and murmured "Angels and Ministers of Grace …" under her breath. Harry's eyes flew open as he realized he was hearing Hermione's voice with his ears and not just in his head.

And Hermione Jane Granger fainted dead away.

Staring up and seeing Hermione start to slump over, Harry sat up and tried to turn so his legs were hanging over the edge of the bed. Closing his eyes for a second to cancel out the room spinning, Harry half turned and wrapped his arms around Hermione as she started to lean over the edge of the bed.

Opening his eyes, Harry gently pulled her to him. Looking over at Helen, who was staring at the two of them with a look of joy mixed with disbelief, he smiled and simply said, "Go find a healer."

As Helen stood up and started towards the door, the door popped open and in came a pair of mediwitches and the lead healer for Harry's case. As all three stopped, shocked to see their patient sitting up and functional, Harry just smiled.

"A little help here? I think she's just a bit surprised to see me up and around," was Harry's response to the shocked St. Mungo's personnel. Seeing that they were still standing there staring at him, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "Fine, I'll do it."

Reaching down, Harry plucked Hermione's vine and dragon heartstring wand from her pocket and cast a quick Rennervate, causing her to begin to stir.

Shaking his head, Harry shifted a bit so he was leaning against the head of the bed and had her cradled in his arms. As her eyes fluttered open, he smiled.

"Hey there. Back with us?"

Staring at Harry in disbelief, Hermione bit her lip for a second before shaking her head, causing her curls to bounce a bit.

"Harry, I think that's my line. You've been out for three weeks, you know."

"And you go and faint the second I get back. I think our timing is a bit off."

As the healer cleared his throat, Harry held up his hand, never taking his eyes from Hermione's.

"I know the drill. You've got a hundred scans and tests to run, but it's going to have to wait for a moment." Not hearing anything, Harry finally looked up from Hermione and smiled.

"This is the point where everyone steps out into the corridor and closes the door while Miss Granger and I have a private discussion." Eyes twinkling, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione and quipped, "It is still Granger, isn't it?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione waited until Harry turned his gaze back to the healer before replying, "Yes, though Ron wasn't very happy when at the last minute I said I didn't want to change my name."

Turning his head back to stare at Hermione in disbelief so fast she was worried he was going to injure himself, Hermione held his gaze for several seconds before winking and chuckling at the look on his face.

"Yes, Harry, it's still Granger."

"Good," was the only response he could muster. Turning his attention to Helen, Harry smiled warmly as he gently squeezed Hermione and felt her settle into him.

"Helen, it's good to see you. I know you've been worrying about me for a while, but for me it's only been about twenty minutes or so." Reaching a hand out, Harry gently squeezed her hand once before continuing.

"If you wouldn't mind, I need to talk to your daughter for a couple of minutes. Could you and the others wait outside for a bit?" Turning his attention back to the healer and the pair of mediwitches, and seeing that there were several others standing in the corridor, Harry chuckled.

"I promise that as soon as a couple of things are attended to, both of us will behave and let you poke and prod us to your heart's content."

Feeling Hermione stiffen in his arms, Harry turned his attention back to her. "Both of us."

Seeing the tentative nod from Helen as she got up from the bed, Harry just smiled at Hermione until he heard the door close. Looking up and seeing that the room was, indeed, empty, Harry sighed.

"I meant it, I do love you." Placing his face beside hers as she settled back into his arms, he waited until he felt her start to respond before continuing.

"I think I always have, but I could never tell you."

Sitting there for a moment or two, Hermione closed her eyes and just basked in the feeling of having Harry's arms around her. Finally taking a deep breath, she started in a quiet voice.

"I was always afraid that if you knew how I felt, I'd lose you. Having you in my life as best friends was better than nothing and that's what I feared. I would be left with nothing."

"Do you want me to talk to Helen?" Knowing that Hermione's eyebrow was raised and arched in her usual 'Are you going to explain that willingly or am I going to have to pull it out of you' look, Harry smiled.

"I'm relatively certain that Helen's been giving you a running dose of advice about how we ended up like this. Do you want me to tell her it's my fault?"

"Harry, we're both to blame for this," was her exasperated reply. Scooting forward on the bed, Hermione turned so she was leaning against Harry with her legs across his lap. Snuggling into his chest, she gently stroked the back of his hand holding her wand, tracing the _"I must not tell lies"_ scars with her pointer finger.

"I can't really blame Ronald any longer," she added as she looked up to see his reaction.

"He talked to you?" Looking worried, Harry gently ran his hand down her back as he felt her tense up. "I should have …"

"Done nothing. Harry the fact you told him off about what was going on was enough. It wasn't your place to tell me that my boyfriend was cheating on me. Ronald should have come to me and let me know what had been going on. Instead, he proposed just to spite you and preempt me finding out and I was idiot enough to say 'yes'."

"Ginny dumped me because of you, you know."

"Ginevra was here for most of the first week you were out, once they released her. As soon as she heard that I'd given Ron back his ring, that there wasn't going to be a wedding, she explained to me that she'd gotten tired of having a boyfriend who wouldn't commit because he was in love with another witch and she hoped that forcing the issue would get you off your lazy arse and make you see which one you were actually in love with." Sighing as she remembered Ginny's embarrassed explanation, Hermione added, "It didn't quite go the way she had hoped since she wasn't the one chosen."

"That's not quite the way I remember the conversation going," Harry mused thinking back to the very noisy conversation with the volatile ginger. Knowing something was up when she began with the infamous, "Harry, we have to talk", all Harry remembered clearly before she started hurling hexes was her wanting a recap of everything that Harry had done with Hermione since they'd met on the Hogwarts Express and then her inexplicably blaming him for Ron treating Hermione so shabbily.

"Well, you are a bit clueless when it comes to witches," Hermione replied as she smiled at the blush on his cheeks. "Though I can't take any honors in understanding wizards apparently."

"We understand each other now, I think." Looking deep into her eyes, Harry smiled at the love and depth of feeling he could see there. Realizing it had always been there made him blush and look away.

"Hey, now. None of that." Cupping his cheek with her hand, Hermione gently turned his face back to hers. "It's going to be strange enough with everyone we know after having almost married Ronald without being awkward with each other to boot."

Seeing he was about to speak up, she placed a finger on his lips. "And none of that 'I should have said something' tripe. You do realize I probably would have hexed you if the ceremony had gotten to the 'does anyone have any reason …" part and you'd stuck your two-knuts in at that moment?"

"What do we do now?" Looking thoughtful, Harry watched her carefully to see where she was going to go with this.

"Well, since you so gallantly offered, I suppose that the first order of business will to be to allow the hoard of healers and my mother back in from the corridor so they can 'poke and prod us to their heart's content'," was Hermione's amused response. Seeing the wary look Harry was shooting the door, she placed the flat of her hand on his cheek and reclaimed his attention.

"However, I do believe that we need to clear one little bit of business up, first," she said in a husky whisper as her face moved closer to his.

"And what might that be," was Harry's response just as his lips brushed against hers.

Sliding her hands up so they slid behind his neck, wrapping her fingers in his hair, she huskily whispered, "This," right before she began to kiss him.

Pressing her lips against Harry, and the rest of her against the rest of him, Hermione tried to shut down her conscious mind and just revel in her first real kiss with Harry. No, not just that.

Her first real kiss.

While she had kissed and been kissed before, by several wizards not just Ronald, and one witch one night celebrating the completion of their NEWTS, this was the first time that 'The Kiss' lived up to its billing. Remembering all of the purple prose she had consumed as a girl in the romance novels she had discovered in the library when she was eight and hid from everyone, this kiss went far beyond anything she had ever read, or experienced firsthand.

Just as the need for oxygen was starting to become acute, and she was desperately trying to remember an article she had read in a muggle musicians magazine about something called 'circular breathing', the incessant beeping and pinging that had started seconds after she began to kiss Harry reached a volume that made it impossible to ignore.

Regretfully ending the kiss, she sat back and let her hands slide forward until they were cupping Harry's face. Seeing the same passion in his eyes that she felt, and the same goofy smile she knew she was sporting, she rolled her eyes and whispered, "Do you think they'd take it wrong if I cancelled all of their diagnostic charms?"

Before Harry could answer, Hermione stiffened as she heard her mother dryly respond, "Actually, I think they'd have a stroke if you did that Mi. Unless the two of you are intent on giving Teddy a sibling right this second, why don't you both sit on the bed and let the healers check the two of you over?"

Seeing that neither one moved, Helen simply shook her head and turned to Chastity who was staring at the pair in disbelief.

"I tried. If 'Mother Guilt' won't move them, try magic."

Chastity, dialing up her 'healer mode' as her husband Dudley called it, simply clucked her tongue and moved to where both of her 'patients' could see her. Looking over at the door, she sighed and turned her attention back to the pair on the bed. While both were paying attention to her, Hermione didn't seem disposed to vacate her position straddling Harry's lap in the least.

Staring at the younger pair for almost a minute, Chastity finally broke her silence.

"Headmistress McGonagall is inbound to see you. My guess is that she's just gotten off the lift, you've got about thirty seconds tops to get decent."

Both pairs of eyes widened to the point where it was almost comical, and then both of them were sitting on the edge of the bed, side by side with an easy hand's width between them, so quickly that a couple of the mediwitches watching from the doorway later swore that they must have both apparated.

Moments later, the Headmistress of Hogwarts, one Minerva McGonagall, came strolling into the room carrying a brightly wrapped parcel and stopped short when she saw both of her favorite students sitting on the edge of Harry's bed looking for all the world as if she had just walked in on them in the middle of something that would have cost them house points, back in the day.

Smiling, she exchanged pleasantries with both Chastity and Helen, and acknowledged the rest of the staff whom she knew from their student days at Hogwarts, before turning her attention to the two sitting on the bed.

"Miss Granger, Mister Potter," she began. Seeing both of them nervously smile and try to keep from looking at each other, she began laughing at the expressions on their faces.

As the rest of the room joined in, both Harry and Hermione stared at her in disbelief. Harry unconsciously reached over and took Hermione's hand as they looked at each other. Seeing that the other had no clue as to what had struck their former head of house as being so funny, they simply waited until the laughter in the room died down.

"I have been waiting for this moment since Hermione told me that bald-faced lie in the witches' lavatory on Halloween," Minerva began. Seeing the shocked disbelief on her face, the older witch rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, while I was never an expert on magical creatures, I was well aware of what was and was not available regarding trolls in print," she began with a smile as she noted the blush on both their faces. "Even as capable as you were at the ripe old age of twelve, I didn't think you would have thought yourself equal to the task of tracking down a troll."

Seeing the looks on both their faces, Minerva smirked. "Which would be more believable, Hermione Granger going out of bounds against instructions to track down a dangerous troll, or Harry Potter haring off to rescue someone who wasn't at the banquet and didn't know there was a troll in the castle?"

Seeing the grudging acceptance of her point, she added, "And I'm a bit disappointed that the two of you would think that I wouldn't know that a member of my House wasn't present at a major feast in the Great Hall."

Seeing Hermione was about to protest, she held up her hand. "I may have just taken it for granted that you were studying in the library or in the tower the countless other times you weren't present at the start of a meal, but with feasts such as Halloween, Pomona, Filius, and I were always aware of who was and wasn't present."

Looking down at the parcel she was still holding, Minerva smiled again as she shifted it from under her arm to holding it in front of her.

"Speaking of presents, however …" Holding the brightly wrapped parcel out to Hermione, she smiled warmly.

"I was coming by today to congratulate you on your big day and find myself in the position of being upstaged by young Harry. Again."

As Hermione blushed, Harry turned and stared at her in disbelief. "It's your birthday?"

Nodding, Hermione leaned over and kissed Harry warmly on the cheek.

"It is, but I think I've got a much better reason to celebrate. I'd forgotten all about it until Minerva just mentioned it." Turning her attention to her favorite professor from her school days, she beamed.

"I was wondering what you were doing when you first walked in," Hermione began. Seeing the skeptical look on the older witch's face and hearing the laughter from her mother, she rolled her eyes.

"I'm capable of being embarrassed and wondering why someone has a package at the same time," she grumbled as Harry leaned over and returned the kiss. Turning to Harry, she mock scolded him, pointing her finger at him with a severe look on her face.

"And I don't want to hear anything about you forgetting to get me a present. Lollygagging around for the past three weeks is no excuse, Mister Potter."

"Actually," Harry drawled while looking down his nose at her in a very bad imitation of Draco from back in the day, "if you would bother to check with the concierge of your hotel in Barbados, you'll find that your present is waiting for you." Looking over at the enchanted sundial on the wall of his room, he shrugged. "Though they might not appreciate a floo call right now, it's about four thirty in the morning by my calculation there."

Stunned, Hermione sat back and stared at Harry in disbelief. Not quite knowing what to say, she simply stared at him until he blushed and began speaking.

"You were going to be gone, and the betting was better than even that your …" Pausing for a second, Harry shrugged and continued. "… that Ron wouldn't remember this time, so I thought that if I Had something delivered early enough, it'd give him time to get you something before dinner."

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Opening them, she looked up at Helen, who was desperately trying not to laugh at the look on hers and Harry's faces. Exhaling, she closed her eyes again.

"Would everyone except for Harry step back out into the corridor for a moment?" Not hearing anyone moving, Hermione opened her eyes again and looked around.

"I know that Harry promised everyone that we'd behave and allow you to poke and prod us to your heart's content, and I do realize it's a bit rude to just chuck everyone out into the corridor, but I really need to discuss something with Harry and since he finally decided to rejoin us, now seems like the perfect moment."

Giving everyone the look that was capable of clearing the library at Hogwarts in two seconds flat, Hermione kept her face turned away from Harry as everyone exited the room. Seeing the knowing look on Minerva's face, Hermione nodded slightly as the older witch pulled the door closed behind her.

Taking her wand back from Harry without a word, Hermione silently locked the door and then put up a battery of privacy charms before turning back to Harry.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled one leg up and tucked it under the other as she carefully placed her wand between them. Reaching over and taking both of Harry's hands in hers, she began speaking very softly.

"You went out of your way to try to idiot proof my birthday by arranging things so my soon to be idiot husband would have one last reminder to either get me something or plan something for me. Even though you thought that my marrying him was one of the three biggest mistakes in my life, you went to the trouble of sending a gift four thousand miles just to keep me from missing my birthday?"

Not knowing quite what to say, Harry smiled warily and nodded slowly.

"Well, I was thinking more along the lines of I'd not forgotten your birthday once I knew when it was, so I was going to get my gift out of the way early so as to not interfere with whatever Ron may or may not have planned." Unable to keep a straight face through that, Harry smiled at the look on Hermione's face.

"It's possible that he was going to plan something special once you two got to the island."

"Harry James Potter, now is not the time for us to start shading or bending the truth with each other," she began. Holding his eyes with hers for a moment, Hermione conceded his point.

"Since I can't say it's categorically impossible that Ronald would have independently remembered my birthday for once, I'll concede it's possible." Seeing the smirk on his face, she added, "Not very probable, but possible."

"What am I going to do with you?"

Hermione's question threw Harry for a loop. Not expecting that, he stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Harry, my wedding got interrupted by a phoenix and a Neo-Death Eater attack. The betting line against either happening at a wedding is astronomical, not to mention both."

Taking a deep breath, she glared at him, daring him to disagree before continuing. "Three weeks ago I was standing in front of most of our friends, in a wedding dress no less, prepared to marry the wrong man because I was too much of a coward to tell the one I did love that I loved him."

Looking a bit too maniacal for Harry's peace of mind, Hermione let go of Harry's hand and gestured wildly around the room.

"You spent three weeks in a coma after jumping in front of me to take a curse that most likely would have killed me, and the timing and method of you waking up leads me to the conclusion that I've joined you in being Fate's puppy's favorite chew toy."

Trying not to smirk at Hermione bringing up Luna's explanation for why things happened to him, Harry just nodded, waiting for Hermione to get back to her original question.

"Harry, I'm scared. Since it seems inevitable that we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, what the bloody hell happens next?"

Reaching over, Harry placed his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap. As she collapsed forward and onto him, he wrapped her in a hug and held her tightly.

"Hermione, other than we ask Minerva and Helen what would be the appropriate amount of time to wait before announcing that we're getting married, I'm not certain."

Feeling her react to his mentioning getting married, Harry chuckled.

"That is, if you want to marry me. I can understand if you're a bit off on this whole married thing, we can just put your stuff back at Grimmauld Place or Potter Hall and play this whole thing by ear for a while until you're ready."

Pulling herself up, Hermione stared at Harry in disbelief. "Harry, if you want to be the one to tell my father, the former Royal Marine, that we're going to shack up and live in sin …"

"We've been living in the same house since we left Hogwarts, and he's been fine with it."

"I've been living in a separate house from my boyfriend or fiancé for the past five years," Hermione countered. "Daddy knew that you'd never do anything while Ronald was in the picture. Now …" Trailing off again, she smiled at the blush that was creeping up on his cheeks.

"I think that the situation is a bit different and Daddy is not going to be amused by his only daughter being, …" Pausing for a moment she started laughing as she remembered Ron's standby.

"He's not going to take it well that you're treating his darling daughter like a 'scarlet woman'."

Thinking for a moment, Harry rolled his eyes. "We'll leave handling Alex to Helen, she's the expert." Looking at Hermione suspiciously, Harry chuckled. "Let me guess. Your stuff is still in your rooms at Grimmauld Place, right?"

"There and at Potter Hall," was Hermione's exasperated reply. "Ron and I were still arguing about finding a place of our own, we'd decided to wait until after we'd gotten back from the honeymoon."

"Ron was still pushing to buy the Kellerman place?" Seeing the exasperated look on Hermione's face, Harry sighed. "It's a quarter mile from the Burrow, why was he thinking it was a good place for a newly married couple to set up housekeeping?"

"Because it was a quarter mile from the Burrow," was Hermione's response. "For all of his complaining that his mother wouldn't let him live his own life, I think Ron was hoping that close proximity to Molly would have encouraged me to be a bit more … domestic."

Seeing the grimace on Harry's face, Hermione chuckled. "I know, but we don't have to deal with that not."

Taking her wand back up, she waved it lazily, cancelling the spells and allowing it to swing open. Seeing that her mother and Minerva were waiting, almost patiently, she smiled.

"Drag everyone in, if the mediwitches and healers can be content to poke and prod one of us at a time, the other will tell the story."

* * *

><p><em>2045 - 19 September, 2003 – Room 611 – The Lily Potter Dark Arts Trauma Ward - St. Mungo's, London<em>

Sitting back against the head of the bed, Hermione was sleeping with her head on Harry's chest when the door quietly opened. Looking up, Harry smiled as he saw Luna wink at him from the doorway.

"I was going to wish the Birthday Girl a 'Happy Birthday', but it seems you wore her out," Luna began airily as she walked over to the bed. Ignoring the blush on Harry's cheeks, Luna leaned over and kissed him on his cheek as Hermione stirred fitfully.

Walking around the bed, so she was on the side Hermione's legs weren't hanging over Harry's lap on; Luna made herself to home on the edge of Harry's bed. Smiling at the sight of Harry and Hermione together like that, Luna sighed.

"I told the children that you'd be back today, you know," Luna began. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Luna chuckled.

"You haven't missed her birthday since third year, I don't think. Why on earth would you let a little thing like a mysterious dark curse and a totally undiagnosed magical coma stop you?"

Looking more curious than shocked, Harry tilted his head to the side as he gently stroked Hermione's back. "Did you 'know', or was that wishful thinking?"

"Does it matter," Luna replied guilelessly, her eyes open wide. "I set out some candied pineapple for Fawkes to thank him on buying you enough time and stopping the wedding."

"How did Teddy and Victoire take the news I was back?" Harry and Hermione had both wanted their godson to be brought to the hospital, but Chastity had wanted to wait until tomorrow when Harry was scheduled to be released.

"Victoire's a bit like her aunt," Luna began nodding at Hermione who was still sleeping peacefully. "She's a bit skeptical about you just deciding to wake up on her aunt's birthday, but Teddy thinks it's all a big prank you planned to make his Uncle Ron go away."

Blushing, Harry placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's head before turning his attention back to Luna.

"I wish I could take credit for it, but truth be told I was going to let her walk away and make a mistake," Harry began. Seeing the understanding look in Luna's eyes, Harry leaned his head back.

"What do I do now," Harry asked while staring at the ceiling of the darkened room.

"Other than marry her," was Luna's response. Chuckling as Harry whipped his head around to stare at her; Luna pulled her wand out from behind her ear and began twirling her long blonde hair around it.

"It's going to be a bit awkward no matter when you do it, so you might as well ask her and pick the day the two of you want," she began. Seeing the suspicious look on Harry's face, she smirked.

"Harry, the 'wedding of the decade' got interrupted by a phoenix and a Neo-Death Eater attack. You ended up in the hospital in some sort of mysterious coma saving Hermione's life. Hermione hasn't left the hospital since she walked in wearing a wedding dress three weeks ago, and now the two of you are going to leave, hand in hand, tomorrow."

Sniggering as Harry tried to face palm without waking Hermione, Luna continued on.

"Of course it's going to be awkward. _The Daily Prophet_ is better than they used to be, but they haven't had something like this land in their laps since Rita Skeeter was writing those tacky stories about Hermione leading both you and Viktor on back during the tournament."

Pausing for a second to let that bit sink in, and to give Hermione a chance to decide whether or not she was going to let Harry know she was awake, Luna continued in a way too chipper voice.

"And I have it from an excellent source that tomorrow's edition of _Witch Weekly_ is going to feature a behind the scenes story by Pansy about how the two of you have been shamelessly carrying on behind Ronald's back for the past year paired with a reader's write-in poll about where the two of you should spend your honeymoon."

Before Harry could stop himself, he started answering. "Oh, that's just bloody great. We're getting painted as the bad guys by the bint that Ron was with on Hermione's birthday …"

Breaking off, Harry looked down to see that Hermione was staring up at him with a sad smile on her face. As she set up, she stretched and nodded to Luna before picking up where Harry left off.

"Dear, I think you were going to say that we're going to be pilloried by the witch who was polishing my boyfriend's broom last year on my birthday after that pantsing his sister gave him in the Harpies / Cannons game earlier that day." Chuckling ruefully, Hermione leaned over and kissed Luna on the cheek before whispering something in her ear.

As Luna's eyes got even wider, Hermione sat back and wrapped her arms around Harry.

"I'll admit I'm not the biggest quidditch fan, but even I know that letting your baby sister score twenty-two goals on you in twenty minutes isn't a good thing." Huffing for a second as she remembered Ron not making it to the party that Harry and Ginny had thrown for her later that day, she sighed.

"I suppose Pansy's a bit like Ronald in that respect, neither one can keep anything out of the goal."

Her deadpan delivery caught both Harry and Luna off guard, and it was several seconds before they both began laughing hysterically. Luna was doing a repeat of the trip on the Hogwarts Express years ago and was repeating 'can't keep it out of her goal' over and over again.

Harry was laughing so hard that it set off a few of the monitoring charms and a pair of mediwitches were standing in the door, staring in disbelief, within moments.

When the three were finally back under some semblance of control, and the mediwitches were assured that Harry was none the worse for wear from his little outburst, the two staff members made their way out of the room leaving the three friends alone.

"I've talked to Alex and Helen this afternoon," Luna began with an air of seriousness. "They've agreed that between the three of us we can make certain Teddy's taken care of."

Seeing the blank looks on their faces, Luna rolled her eyes. "Your honeymoon. Surely you're not thinking about taking Teddy along on your honeymoon? You'll scar the poor boy for life." Pausing for a second, she smirked. "Of course, since Victoire will insist on coming with him, it might be more educational than traumatic for him."

"Luna, the boy's six and she's five. I seriously doubt …" Stopping at the incredulous look on Luna's face, Hermione turned to Harry for backup. Seeing that he was nodding in agreement, she rolled her eyes.

"Our son is not coming along on our honeymoon and if he was, he's certainly not bringing his girlfriend. And that doesn't even begin to address the fact that the two of them are much too young to be thinking of them like that."

Closing her eyes and sounding like her father had back when Helen had broken the fact that it was evident Hermione was in love with Harry from her letters home when she was thirteen, Hermione said. "I'm not going to discuss this until he's much older."

Looking a bit wary, Harry smiled nervously. "Hermione, Victoire's a Veela like her mother. And French to boot." Seeing the look on her face, Harry chuckled. "You remember that story Gabby was telling …"

Trailing off, Harry gulped at the look on Hermione's face when he mentioned the younger Delacour who had had a crush on him since he had rescued her from Black Lake during the ill-fated Tri Wizard Tournament. Shaking his head, Harry smiled at Luna.

"You were saying that you would be able to take care of Teddy for us while we're gone?"

Snickering at the looks Hermione was shooting both of them, Luna nodded eagerly. "Helen and I agreed that while Petunia would be more than willing, having a six year old metamorph running around the house might be a bit much for her to explain. Once he learns to remember what color his hair is when he shows up …"

Trailing off, Luna smiled as she could see that the two were lost in a silent conversation between just the two of them. Quietly getting up from the bed, she shook her head as she made her way to the door. As she was putting her hand on the door handle, she paused as Hermione's voice broke the silence in the room.

"You wouldn't mind stopping by the Matron's station and letting them know that I'll be keeping an eye on Harry' vitals for the next little bit?"

"No problem, I'll just let them know that all of their monitoring charms are about to go silent. I imagine it would be terribly embarrassing in about ten minutes if they came barging in, thinking Harry's heart had stopped."

Closing the door behind her, Luna could feel the locking and privacy charms taking effect on the door. Smirking, she cast a variety of the Notice Me Not charm on the door to Room 611 and turned to look at the red-haired wizard sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting area.

"Well?" Looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes that would have done Dumbledore proud, back in the day, George Weasley watched his friend carefully.

"If anyone's got before nine in the pool, we have a winner," was Luna's reply as she walked over to him.

Getting up and stretching, George chuckled as he looked over where Room 611 was. Seeing the confused faces on the mediwitches at the Matron's station, he gestured gallantly to Luna.

"Shall we? It looks as if the staff is a bit perplexed why one of their rooms just disappeared on them."

"We shall," was Luna's reply. Looking at George out of the corner of her eye, she grinned. "Side bets on whether or not they announce the wedding before or after lunch tomorrow?"

"No dice," was George's begrudging reply. "I still owe you ten galleons over Fawkes showing up at the wedding." Looking at her, he waited patiently while she explained things to the mediwitches about their 'patients'. When both of them were still a bit confused, but accepting of the fact that Room 611 was going to be under a 'Do Not Disturb' for the rest of the night, they turned and headed for the lift.

As they waited for the lift, Luna looked up at George and rolled her eyes. "And before you ask, I had no idea about the Neo-Death Eaters. Yes, I bribed a phoenix to crash the wedding with candied pineapple. You and I both know that it had to be done and Fawkes knew it was wrong, so it only took a little persuasion to get him to help."

Shaking her head, she looked a bit worried as they entered the empty lift.

"Neo-Death Eaters showing up trying to kill the bride? Didn't see that one coming at all."


End file.
